


If you need to crash

by SharpestRose



Category: Savage Garden
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SharpestRose/pseuds/SharpestRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren gets like that sometimes. I think it's part of being such an emotional person, part of being an artist, maybe just a part of being Darren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you need to crash

He was hurting.

Darren gets like that sometimes. I think it's part of being such an emotional person, part of being an artist, maybe just a part of being Darren. Sometimes life just got too much for him.

Most people can't tell. He behaves just the same, laughing and joking. Too much time living in each other's pockets has taught me the warning signs, though. Wait, that sounds wrong. These moods of his aren't life-threatening or anything of the sort. He just goes all fragile and vunerable.

The moods can pass with nobody the wiser, provided nobody sets him off. Today, someone did. Karl was rehearsing his drum solo, Darren was doing the looking-at-his watch miming shtick, and warm up was going fine. Then Karl decided to be all clever and keep the solo going… and going… and going. Darren didn't say a word, just stormed off the stage. The rest of the band looked at me, as if I would know why he did it, as if I would understand. It would have irritated me, how on earth could I know what the guy was thinking? But I was ok this time, because I did know. He was just in one of his Darren moods, miserable with everything.

"Hey Darren?" I asked, opening the door to his dressing room a little, not enough that his privacy would be invaded, merely enough so he could hear my voice without the thick wood of the door in the way.

"Piss off." His voice was muffled. I thought perhaps he was crying. I wouldn't have been surprised, anyway.

"You really want me to do that?" I opened the door a little more, I could see him now, sitting on the dark pink couch, one keep drawn up to his chest.

"No." Darren shook his head. "They all think I'm a bratty little prima donna now, don't they?"

"Nobody thinks that." I assured him, braving another explosion and opening the door fully.

"Yes they do." I felt a little exasperated myself. He was like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum. But he was Darren, and I wasn't going to leave him when he felt like this.

"No they don't. They just think you need some time out, and they're giving it to you." I explained paitiently.

"What about you? Do you think I'm a bratty prima donna?" Darren's eyes were bright. So blue, so bright. Maybe that's where the diamond from 'Titanic' ended up.

I didn't answer. I sat next to him on the couch and hugged him. I knew it was the only way to persuade him that I wasn't angry. He gave a little contented sigh and hugged me back, all the trips to the gym have given that guy one seriously strong grip.

I'm not going to tell you whether we're lovers or not. It's none of your business, and it's not important right now. I love Darren Hayes. You don't need to know if I mean that in a Biblical sense, because that's got nothing to do with the hug. The hug was about affection, caring, and comfort, not about me 'lookin' for some sugar', as Darren would put it onstage, when he was feeling vunerable. It was just about me trying to make him feel a little better, just for a moment. I'd like to think I suceeded.

"Thanks Dan." Darren murmured against my neck. I smiled and gave him a squeeze.

"Think nothing of it, you little prima donna."

 


End file.
